


Prodigal Son

by eachnighteachmorning



Category: Ouran High School Host Club - All Media Types
Genre: Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Unrequited Love, eventual kyokao, kyoya is gay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-12
Updated: 2020-02-10
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:35:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22235683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eachnighteachmorning/pseuds/eachnighteachmorning
Summary: Vignettes from Kyoya’s life as he comes to terms with his sexuality.
Relationships: Fujioka Haruhi/Suoh Tamaki, Hitachiin Kaoru/Ootori Kyouya, one sided kyoya/tamaki
Comments: 28
Kudos: 183





	1. Chapter 1

I.

_The Stars_

_Or_

_How Kyoya realized he was very, very gay._

***

Initially, Kyoya only agreed to go up to the villa in the mountains with the impetuous boy from his homeroom class on the off chance that he would be able to meet the boy’s father, a cutthroat asset management tycoon.

The boy, Shun Ikeda, was rather popular at Ouran, particularly with girls, Kyoya concluded from his research. He played classical violin at an intermediary level. He did exceptionally well in social studies classes and quite poorly in everything else. He was once caught with a single, stolen cigarette in the boys’ washroom and let off with only a warning after his parents paid for a new science lab to be built in their name.

A friendship with Shun could be beneficial, maybe. Their families never had any business together before, but anything was possible, and most of all, Kyoya was interested in having a discussion with Mr. Ikeda about the nature of his profession.

From an early age, Kyoya’s family instilled in him the importance of networking. He remembered being just four years old, hearing Father lecture Yuuichi and Akito for picking a childish fight with the son of an important client.

 _Connections are everything!_ Father scolded, _You must maintain them with professionalism and not let your feelings get in the way! That is the key to success, and you do want to succeed me someday, don’t you?_

So badly he longed for greatness, not for fame or fortune, but for the chance to be seen by his father once and for all. Yuuichi was the eldest and Akito followed straight after, making them heir to the family business. Father had such plans for them— top universities abroad, medical school, post-graduate residencies; all to prepare them for the arduous task of running the Ootori Group even half as well as the great Yoshio Ootori did. Then there was Fuyumi, the only girl. Molding her into the perfect, picturesque bride for a wealthy young man was a top priority.

That left Kyoya. The youngest. _The Missing Link_ , Akito once jokingly called him in front of a tipsy crowd at their sister’s engagement party. He was right. Father barely had anything left to give Kyoya. No loving words, no fatherly support or wisdom, barely any time. Nothing more than a swift pat on the back now and then, and a _Son, the biomedical engineer I’m collaborating with has a pretty daughter who’s about your age and I told them that you’d be more than happy to have tea with her this afternoon._ Not that Kyoya ever really wanted any more than that. It was never in his nature to yearn for affection.

***

When Kyoya climbed into the back of the Ikeda family’s large, chauffeured BMW after school, bags packed and ready to go, he turned to Shun and asked if the driver would be picking up his parents too, or if they’d be joining later on in the trip.

“Oh, nah.” Shun replied, “My dad went on a business trip to Seoul. We’ll have way more fun without my old man breathing down our necks.”

 _Shit._ Kyoya thought to himself. _Stuck alone with this idiot_.

“What do you mean ‘more fun’, Shun? Are we not just stargazing in the mountains?”

“Pft, seriously?” Shun laughed, “Stargazing...ha! That’s just a front.”

“For what?”

“Raiding my dad’s liquor cabinet, checking out the ladies by the hot tub, and ordering tons of room service!” Shun grinned like a madman and Kyoya wondered just what he’d gotten himself into.

***

The Ikeda family’s villa was only one of many luxury vacation homes located at the resort. It looked nothing like the admittedly rustic mountainside property Kyoya had imagined. It was sleek, modern and fluorescent, with a pool the size of a modest lake.

The employees came to take the boys’ luggage while Shun checked in at the front desk. 

“Oh my, Shun! I haven’t seen you here since you were just in the sixth grade!” The elderly woman at the front desk mused, handing him his keys, “I can’t believe you’re already fifteen and old enough to bring a little friend with you!”

Kyoya smiled at her politely, “Hello Miss.”

“This is my buddy, Kyoya, Mrs. Suzu. Is my big brother here yet?”

“Yes, dear, Hideki arrived a few hours ago, I’m sure he’s been expecting you. You boys go have fun, now!”

The elevator ride up to the penthouse floor seemed to last forever. Kyoya decided then and there that him and Shun did not mesh well as friends, or even acquaintances. Not only could Kyoya tell that the Ikeda family was about as _Nouveau Riche_ as they come, he also found Shun to be utterly detestable.

Shun was crude and had no tact. He talked disrespectfully about their female classmates, with a particular voyeuristic emphasis on their figures. He used tasteless slang. Most importantly, he lacked the drive and ambition that the Ootori boy usually sought out in a companion.

***

“Seriously, dude?! You’re going to study _now_?!” Shun was already changing into his swim trunks and knocking back a beer can.

“I just need this assignment off my shoulders. I can’t relax if I have something on my to-do list.”

_Also, I can’t stand you._

“Suit yourself then. I’m going to show those girls out there my signature move.” He puffed out his chest.

“I’m sure they’ll be highly impressed, Shun.”

Kyoya returned to his studies as Shun exited. He didn’t find Calculus very stimulating, but he enjoyed the feeling of solving a problem correctly, and would gladly be doing math homework over watching Shun embarrass himself.

“Excuse me, Shun—”

Kyoya looked up to notice a tall, handsome young man with a pleasant face. He was a high school student of about sixteen, clutching a hardcover book in his arm. Kyoya tried to speak up and tell the older boy where Shun had run off to, but he was too busy studying all of the grace and poetry in his appearance as one usually would when looking at a piece of artwork.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he chuckled softly, “I didn’t know my younger brother brought a friend along with him. I’m Hideki.”

Kyoya closed his book and sat up, quickly composing himself, “Kyoya Ootori. Please, don’t apologize, it was a little last-minute.”

Hideki approached him and sat beside him at the edge of the bed, “I’m impressed with you, Kyoya. Not a lot of Shun’s friends seem to care much about their studies.”

His words sent a rush of something unfamiliar down Kyoya’s entire body. _I’m impressed with you._ He’d heard it before, obviously, from teachers at school, family members visiting and once in a blue moon, his own father. But this felt entirely different...the compliment didn’t come with any conditions or terms, and most importantly, it didn’t come with any cost to him. It was a simple, pure statement of admiration.

“Say, Hideki what book are you reading there?” Kyoya eyed the heavy book the older boy brought in.

“This?” He glanced at it briefly, “It’s just for my business and economics class. It’s not a very interesting read.”

“It sounds interesting to me, may I have a look at it?”

Hideki nodded and passed the book to Kyoya, “We’re mainly going over the basics right now, so you can borrow it if you like, just make sure to get it back to me…”

“Thank you…” Kyoya flipped through it a bit before setting it down next to his own books.

“This might sound kind of odd, but thank you for hanging out with my brother, Kyoya.” Hideki looked away slightly, placing further emphasis on his chiseled cheekbones and jaw, “He feels a little out of place at Ouran and I think it’s causing him to act out quite a bit and get into some trouble. It’s good that he has someone sensible like you to hang out with.”

Kyoya did not reply. It was kind of Hideki to see so much potential in his younger sibling, and it almost made Kyoya feel bad for judging him so harshly. _Almost_.

“Will you do something for me, Kyoya? It might sound silly…”

“What is it?”

“Will you take a walk and stargaze with me?” He smiled, his pretty eyelashes batting gently, “Me and Shun used to always go when we were kids, but he stopped coming about two years ago. It’s a lot nicer when you have someone to talk to, isn’t it? You seem like quite an interesting person and I’d like to get to know you, Kyoya.”

_Me? Interesting?_

***

The wide night sky was aglow with stars, but Kyoya wasn’t much interested in them as he was in Hideki.

He watched in admiration as the older boy pointed out all of the constellations he could remember. Kyoya never understood astronomy before, and he still couldn’t get how people saw shapes in the patterns of stars, but Hideki’s enthusiasm could radiate, and Kyoya felt it too.

 _Is this what it’s like to have a crush on a girl?_ He wondered. Kyoya didn’t have crushes on girls like the other boys at school seemed to have constantly. For a long time he thought he was just above the frivolous whims of his peers and eventually, after having an education and a career, he’d tolerate some nice girl from a wealthy family and settle down. _Am I gay? No, no, I’m just admiring a nice older boy. That is perfectly normal and doesn’t mean I’m—_

“Kyoya? Sorry if I’ve been boring you.” Hideki laughed, “I always get a little carried away, I just think it’s so cool that we get to live under this sky and view these stars every night…”

“Not at all. I’m just not much for talking.” Kyoya shivered.

Hideki moved closer to him and removed his jacket, placing it around Kyoya’s shoulders. It was roughly a size too big for him.

“Here. The temperature drops quite a bit at night”

Kyoya glanced at him, his toned arms now visible. They looked strong. Everything about Hideki seemed inhumanly gorgeous. _No. I can’t do this._

“Do you think we should head back, Hideki? Shun might be wondering where we are…”

“It’s nice out here, isn’t it? I could stay here forever…”

“I think I’d be awfully dull to spend forever with.”

“Do you ever think about that? Where you’ll spend forever?”

“If things work out how I want them to, my father will be so impressed by my hard work that he’ll choose me as his successor over my brothers. I want to be the head of my family’s business.”

“That’s it?”

“For the most part, yes.” Kyoya shrugged, “I can’t afford to be idealistic. I’m the youngest son. I have to work extra hard to even get a leg in the race. I can’t just daydream.”

“You can’t or you won’t allow yourself?”

“I don’t allow myself because I can’t.”

Hideki sighed, “I’ve always been a dreamer...God, I miss being a normal guy. Ever since we got rich it seems like I can’t be a real person anymore...I can’t feel, or want, or love...everything needs to be some big, calculated move.”

“I get what you’re saying, but I don’t know anything besides that life. I’ve never yearned for anything. I don’t think I’m capable. It doesn’t even really phase me.” Kyoya shrugged.

He smiled at the younger boy, “You know, I don’t think you’re as cold or robotic as you let on. I think inside you’re just as human as everyone else. I’m sure your girlfriend must love how mysterious you are…”

“No girlfriend. I don’t have time for anything like that.”

“Ever?”

“No.”

Hideki chuckled, “Well geez, have you at least had your first kiss yet?”

“No.” he took a deep breath, “I haven’t.”

“Well, here. I’ll kiss you, then.”

Hideki lifted Kyoya’s face gently by the chin and planted a soft kiss on his lips.

It felt terrifying and beautiful. It was so, so right.

Then, Kyoya did what was possibly the most un-Kyoya thing he had ever done in all of his fifteen years.

He pulled him closer and kissed him back, slower and deeper, anxiously enjoying every millisecond, tangling his hands in Hideki’s dark brown hair.

_Oh, I’m gay alright._

A loud ringing and a flashing light cut them off, Hideki’s cell phone. The name _Miya_ and a picture of a smiling girl danced on the screen.

Hideki frowned, “Sorry. It’s my girlfriend.”

Kyoya took off and calmly made his way back. He told Shun that he wasn’t feeling well and sent for one of his family’s cars to pick him up.

Once home, Kyoya threw up, and crawled into bed still wearing his clothes. He felt dirty and numb. All he could do was lie still.

Just when he’d though all odds were already stacked up against him. The youngest Ootori son, who had to jump through hoops every day just to get noticed by his own father, was gay. A homo. A queer.

Kyoya spent the next few sleepless hours beating himself up. He shouldn’t have let Hideki do that. He should have politely refused his offer and then walked away. It wouldn’t have changed much, but at least he’d be able to keep on denying and burying this part of himself.

He never spoke to Shun Ikeda again, and he kept Hideki’s book. It sat on his bookshelf and taunted him, but he never got rid of it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hi—
> 
> Just FYI this chapter will be heavier than the previous and next chapters, so if you’re unable to handle possibly triggering material that alludes to implied/referenced self harm and mental health struggles, please proceed with caution.
> 
> If you ever need to talk to someone, my inbox is always open. You are so loved and worthy. Take care of yourself, please.

II.

_The Storm_

_Or_

_Kyoya’s high school years are rough._

***

“But Kyoya, I don’t see why we _can’t_ put on a show for our guests! If there’s one way to a lady’s heart, it’s with a beautiful song!” Tamaki snatched up both of Kyoya’s hands.

”Tamaki, please, you’ll give me a migraine with that screeching.” He took his hands out of his best friend’s grip, “And don’t play coy, you know why. It’s not economically sustainable for the Host Club. When you factor in the need for costumes, props, scenery, the rights to the book and music, AND the royalties, the cost adds up pretty quickly. We’re a bit low on funds since last month’s soirée.”

It was their freshman year of high school and the Ouran Host Club was in its infancy. It garnered little more than a small, devoted cult following by this point, but Tamaki Suoh, club president, was in equal parts arrogant and clueless. It was impossible to get him down.

“Well, can’t you just sell some more photo books, then?” Tamaki struck a dramatic pose, “Capture this— a portrait of the beautiful, lonely elite whose dreams have just been…” he paused for effect, “TARNISHED!”

_Sweet, sweet idiot..._

Kyoya rolled his eyes as Tamaki flung himself across Kyoya’s bed and pretended to die tragically.

“Anyways, while you do... _that_ , I’ll budget some realistic club activities that won’t render us bankrupt. We’re only underclassmen, Tamaki, we can’t get too crazy yet.”

“We can get our families to finance it! I’m sure it’ll cost nothing to them!”

“I don’t think the amount of money is the issue there. I believe my father would murder me in cold blood if I had the audacity to ask for a loan so my friends and I could put on a _musical._ ” Kyoya rolled his eyes, “Besides, the goal I have for us as a club is to be as financially independent as possible. Wouldn’t it feel like more of an accomplishment to raise our own funds rather than relying on our parents like a bunch of spoiled brats?”

Tamaki paused and thought it over, then his face lit up, “You’re right! I’d never thought of it like that!” He ran over to Kyoya and hugged him briskly, “No more musical! I’m so lucky to have such a devoted Vice President!”

Kyoya smiled softly. God, Tamaki’s eyes were so violet. He’d never seen anything like it before meeting him.

“So what do you say we do instead, _Mr. President_?”

Tamaki mulled it over, “How about a pool party?”

“It’s March and there’s still snow on the ground.”

“Then we’ll rent out the heated indoor pool that the swim team uses! We’ll do it for White Day on the 14th! All the sad, lonely ladies who didn’t get any candy or flowers can come swim their troubles away with the Ouran Host Club!”

Kyoya had to give it to him, that was a pretty great idea, and an excellent way to get the student body further acquainted with the club.

“Alright then, Tamaki. That’s what we’ll do.”

“Great! Now, no more club talk! Friday nights are for unwinding! Too much stress does a number on a person’s appearance…!”

He shook his head, “I’m exhausted, Tamaki. Are you ready to go home yet?”

“But...can’t I stay over?” Tamaki pouted rather adorably and Kyoya, as per usual, could not resist him.

“Fine, but you’re getting kicked if you hog my blankets again.”

Kyoya hated nights like these. As much as he adored Tamaki and craved time with him, he hated sleepovers. He hated sharing his bed with him.

For almost an entire year now, Kyoya tried to accept that by some strange and terrible happenstance his heart picked Tamaki out from a crowd and decided _That one! That one is the one I want! I want to hold his hand and kiss him and stare in those damn magical amethyst eyes forever..._

It felt so pathetic. Kyoya never believed himself to be the type to pine over someone like that, especially not an overly-affectionate headstrong idiot like Tamaki, but he was so passionate about everything he threw himself into, and that alone drove Kyoya wild. Not to mention, he was stunning. Diamond, champagne-sparkly stunning.

He buried it deep within him somewhere, and focused mainly on keeping Tamaki all in one piece when he got carried away, which he did often. When Tamaki hugged him closely, or kissed his cheeks, or squeezed his hand, he didn’t savor it as he so badly wished he could. 

He and Tamaki couldn’t be together. That much was blatantly obvious. Touchy-feely as Tamaki was, he was securely heterosexual, and if Kyoya even so much as slipped out of his carefully constructed closet, his entire world would surely come crashing down.

He winced to imagine his father’s hand striking against his face. _You are no son of mine, Kyoya_. He could almost hear every time he thought about it, _Get out of this home right now, you degenerate freak!_

The streetlight shining through the window blinds highlighted the strands of silvergold in Tamaki’s blonde hair. Kyoya should have been annoyed at how tightly Tamaki was clinging to him, but he knew the other boy so well, he could tell that Tamaki wasn’t falling asleep. He always got cuddly when he had troubling thoughts that kept him up.

“Are you awake?”

“I’m sorry, did I keep you, Kyoya? I’m just thinking…”

“About?”

“I feel like I’ve been a bad friend to you.”

“In what way?”

Tamaki sniffed, “You’re always there for me…”

“I am?”

“Yet you never come to me when you need someone. I feel so guilty, Kyoya. You can tell me anything!”

_Does he suspect—_

“I don’t need anyone ever. I like to work things out by myself…” Kyoya said quickly, “Besides, what made you think about that?”

“We’ve been friends for so long now, and I only _just_ found out your parents were getting a divorce _this week_!”

“It never came up. I haven’t seen my mother in months, so you definitely won’t be meeting her anytime soon.”

“Kyoya, you’re so brave…”

“I just don’t care about my parents’ marriage or lack thereof. They’ve been separated for a long time. Now it’s just on paper. Does that make you feel better?”

“And you still haven’t told me who you have a crush on!”

_Shit._

“I don’t have a crush on anyone.”

“Come on, Kyoya, you can trust me! There has to be _some_ reason why I never see you entertaining guests at the Host Club! I figured you had a special girl you were staying loyal to…”

“No one, Tamaki. I’m just busy with all the budgeting and paperwork. Aren’t you glad I’m there to do it so you don’t have to?”

“Huh. I guess you’re right.” Tamaki settled in and rested his head on Kyoya’s shoulder, “I’m so grateful for you.”

“And I’m grateful for you. Go to sleep.”

***

Once, when Kyoya was nine or ten, his parents got into an especially heated fight. They fought constantly, morning, noon and night, but certain details stuck with him. All he remembered was his tall, beautiful mother crumpled to the ground with her makeup running down the sides of her face, emotionally exhausted and in pain from the screaming. His father’s red, clenched fist and the shattered remnants of a broken wine glass on the floor. Fuyumi, who was fifteen at the time, took Kyoya into a different room and tried to distract him, but he was too transfixed on their parents’ inaudible yelling.

“I don’t think love is real.” Kyoya admitted.

“I love you very much, and Mom loves us all.”

“But Mom and Dad don’t love each other…”

“They did once.” Fuyumi shook her head sadly.

He remembered the flashing lights of the ambulance coming for his mother that night. Fuyumi refused to let him come downstairs until the maids had cleaned everything up.

Their mother came back quietly after 42 hours, her arms bandaged and her disposition meek and withdrawn.

She moved out by the end of the month.

***

In the fresh, linen hours of the early morning, Kyoya awoke to cool, slender fingers gently brushing over the scars that criss crossed over the blue veins on the underside of his wrist. The ones that appeared whenever Kyoya’s father reprimanded him, or he got a less than perfect mark on an assignment, or the crushing psychological weight of being alive made too much noise and overwhelmed him.

At first, he was too disoriented to notice what was going on, but when he was fully awake he bolted up and snatched his arm away, feeling naked and vulnerable.

“Kyoya…” Tamaki’s tone was grim, “Did you do this on purpose?”

“It’s nothing. Don’t trouble yourself.”

“Be honest with me or I’ll _tell_.” He’d never seen Tamaki’s serious side before.

“I was just being stupid. See? They’re old and scabbed up. Nothing to worry about.”

“Next time you want to do this, will you call me?”

_No, Tamaki, I will not._

“Yes. Of course.”

Kyoya freed his arm from Tamaki and a few moments of awkward silence passed.

“Kyoya?”

“Yes…?”

“Is it because you‘re gay?”

He nearly pushed Tamaki off of his bed and out the window.

“Who told you?!” He hissed.

“Well…” he shrunk timidly, “You never want to entertain the girls, you never seem to like any girl you see...also, I saw that _magazine_ under your bed with the guys who—“

“Shut up, you idiot!”

“It’s not a big deal, honest! There isn’t anything wrong with being gay!”

“One word to _anyone_ , Suoh, and I’ll make sure your life is ruined. I know enough about you to royally _fuck everything up.”_

The venom in Kyoya’s voice shocked even himself.

“Please don’t be angry with me, Kyoya...I just don’t want you to go on like this alone, you’re my best friend…”

“I think you should leave.”

“Can’t we talk about this?”

“I don’t even want to look at you right now, Tamaki…”

Tamaki reached for him gently, and Kyoya quickly pulled him into a kiss. He could taste the tears that ran down Tamaki’s face. This didn’t feel like he imagined it would.

When Tamaki pulled away he shifted himself so he could hold Kyoya in his arms.

“I’m so sorry, _Mon Ami_.”

“I’m sorry too. Please never speak of this again.”

“I never will. I promise. Please don’t hurt yourself anymore.”

Kyoya said nothing.

***

Sometimes when things became a little too comfortably numb, Kyoya dabbled in the art of disguise. Like most things, he did it exceptionally well. All he needed to do was swap out his glasses for the long-neglected pair of contacts he kept in the back of his medicine cabinet, and dust off the artfully-made fake ID that the Hitachiins gave him for his birthday.

“Ren Tanabe” was twenty-two, and a Pisces. He was also apparently six foot even.

_Awfully kind of the twins to give me an inch._

Because one could never be too safe, Kyoya tested out the fake by buying a carton of cigarettes at a convenience store. He’d never stepped foot in one before that night.

When he was certain that the fake would work, he finally found it within himself to venture over to the closest, but most low-key gay bar he could find.

Kyoya walked in, unsure of himself but hiding it, and sat at the bar, close to the first man that caught his eye. He was a tall, rugged man of German or possibly American descent, Kyoya concluded from his slick blonde hair and dark, furrowed eyebrows. He obviously liked what he saw. So did Kyoya. The man was an Adonis. He looked like he could be an actor in a Tarantino movie.

“I’ll have a gin and tonic. No lime.” Kyoya told the bartender, flashing him the ID, just like he practiced.

“Put his drink on my tab, would you?” The man spoke Japanese with a foreign accent and carried himself as though he were an important person.

Kyoya cocked his head, peeking through his eyelashes at a gold wedding band on the man’s left hand.

“Does your wife know you’re here?”

Kyoya tentatively sipped on his drink. It had an odd, unfamiliar taste. Not as bad as he expected, but not very good either. The burn on his throat took a little getting used to.

“You know, I can’t say I’m an expert on how things are done here in Japan, but in the States we tend to _thank_ the handsome strangers who buy us drinks.”

“Thank you, handsome stranger.” Kyoya took another swig, “Tell your wife I say ‘thank you’ to her as well.”

Was this giddiness? A lightness of being? A buzz? He enjoyed teasing and he _really_ enjoyed the feeling of being attractive and wanted.

“No wife, actually. The rings are a little...private thing between me and my _best friend_.”

“All due respect, we’re at a gay bar. If you mean your _partner_ , then say it.”

“Things are a little more complicated than that.” The man stirred a half-empty Old Fashioned with his finger.

“I suppose that’s why you’re here then?” Kyoya finished off his drink.

“Among many reasons, yes.” He clearly didn’t want to think about this other guy right now.

“Hey, if you get me another drink, I’ll trade you a pack of cigarettes…”

“Deal.”

Kyoya let the man bring him along for a car ride. He still didn’t know the man’s name, but he lost his virginity to him in the back of his 2002 Volkswagen Touareg.

When it was over, the man tried to get more information out of him, but Kyoya just sat quietly and stared out the window. He wouldn’t let the man turn the light on. He didn’t want to be seen. It suddenly wasn’t very fun or exciting anymore. The sickly feeling that came about after he kissed his friend’s older brother in the mountains returned.

 _Did I really just let this happen? God, there’s something seriously wrong with me. I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to be_ **_me_**.

After a few awkward minutes, Kyoya scribbled his number onto an old receipt, stuck three pieces of gum into his mouth and did a swift walk-of-shame back home.

He’d hook up with the man five more times, eventually blocking his number and cutting him loose, but never once learning his name.

***

By their second year of high school, the Ouran Host Club had become one of the school’s biggest cash cows. Thanks to Kyoya’s careful planning, he and Tamaki had created an empire. Kyoya couldn’t wait to mention it in his college application.

Truthfully, he liked it. The job gave him a distraction from how depressed he was, and a sense of accomplishment whenever something new was finished successfully. As a bonus, his academic counselor was so impressed by his work ethic that he let Kyoya get out of gym and have an extra free period.

The club appointments were almost always fully booked up and Kyoya had to take great care to divide the time spent with each guest evenly. Astoundingly, they now made enough revenue from merchandise sales to manifest practically any of Tamaki’s ideas, no matter how ridiculous or flashy.

That night in their freshman year put a strain on his and Kyoya’s friendship that still wasn’t quite mended yet, but Tamaki had respected Kyoya enough to keep his mouth shut about the whole ordeal, and regretfully, Kyoya’s feelings for him were still there.

A boy walked into the music room one day. He was definitely not Kyoya’s type, too _delicate,_ but it was a step in the right direction for a boy to stop by for a visit, and Kyoya admired his guts. He could never do something like that. Not now, anyways.

“Oh wow, it’s a boy.” The twins said in unison.

_No shit._

“Hikaru, Kaoru, I believe this young man is in the same class as you, isn’t he?”

Kyoya already knew he was, of course, but had to ask, just as a formality.

Tamaki was the last to react, and was quick to bounce back from his shock with possibly the worst thing he could have said in that moment:

“I’d never would have imagined that the infamous honors student would be so openly gay…”

_Whoop. There it is._

Then, promptly, he jumped into his role as the Host Club’s ringleader, “So what kind of guys are you into?”, and listed every member’s ‘type’.

Including Kyoya’s.

_Yikes._

Like a blur, the vase was shattered and the club had a new member, who they’d later learn was female. That’s how Ms. Haruhi Fujioka fell into the mix.

Kyoya enjoyed his new friend, she was quiet and studious like he was, but unlike him, had a genuinely good heart. He respected her too much to be bitter about her and Tamaki’s budding relationship, and if Tamaki has to pick a girl, he was glad to see it be her. She’d keep his head on his shoulders.

The stormy evening at the beach, when Kyoya lunges at her and pins her down and proposes that she pay him back _with her body_ , he’s not even sure why he does it. He definitely did _not_ want to make sexual advances towards her, but he wanted to be someone who could.

“I know you wouldn’t do that.” She says plainly and matter-of-factly, “Because it wouldn’t benefit you in any way. You wouldn’t get anything out of it.”

What made Haruhi a particularly valuable asset is exactly what also made her frightening, she had a keen intuition and could read almost anyone. 

“You’re a fascinating young woman, Haruhi.”

“You know, you’re actually a really nice guy.”

He smiled weakly at her, wishing it was true.


	3. Chapter 3

III.

_The Dawn_

_Or_

_A flash of color brightens up Kyoya’s gray world_

***

The Summer break after graduation was surreal. Kyoya wasn’t worried— he’d gotten accepted into all of his top choice universities, and finally settled on Oxford, with a major in Economics and Management. His English was good, and the UK was sufficiently far enough away from everything he knew to start fresh. He finally wouldn’t be tied down to anything anymore.

The feeling of not having anything to do in the meantime was odd, but welcome. He’d spent years with a heavy load on his shoulders and now could hardly remember how it felt at all.

Tamaki and Haruhi quickly became engaged just after the school term ended.

Kyoya wasn’t at all surprised when Tamaki proposed to her, (with an enormous, public gesture and the tackiest princess-cut diamond engagement ring that Tiffany’s had ever forged) but he was when she accepted.

_Wouldn’t she be embarrassed to wear that thing to each of her classes next semester?_

_Did Tamaki even ask for Ranka’s blessing?_

_Is she pregnant?_

_Or, am I jealous because they’re happy and I’m not...?_

_Yep. That’s it._

The couple jetted away to France for the Summer so they could break the news to some of Tamaki’s relatives.

Honey and Mori were gone now, too. Split up for probably the first time ever.

Mitsukuni’s exact whereabouts were unknown to Kyoya. He’d been accepted into some top-secret, prestigious martial arts program and his cousin somehow didn’t make the cut.

Mori and Kyoya were never particularly close, so he never thought to reach out, and Kyoya no longer had to keep tabs on his former cohorts, so that was that.

The only hosts that Kyoya still had access to were the twins.

Hikaru called him over one day, asking for help on some college applications and since Kyoya was home alone for the week and had nothing better to do, he went for it.

“You know, Hikaru, you have to mail this in, right? You’re aware that the board of admissions will read this?”

Kyoya looked over Hikaru’s transcript, it wasn’t the worst he’d ever seen, but it was certainly not up to par with the standards set for the universities that Hikaru had his eye on.

The older twin shrugged, “My college fund has enough in it to feed a small village. I think that matters more than a couple of c’s here and there, plus, at least I passed everything, technically.”

Kyoya rolled his eyes, “I expected more from you, honestly. You think a council of some of the most important and esteemed academic scholars would look at this and go: ‘Ah, well, he’s functionally illiterate but his mother’s designs retail for about the cost of a midsize car, so let him in!’, seriously?”

“Well, I still have senior year left.” Hikaru was visibly offended, “Maybe I’ll get the best grades you’ve ever seen and become a total off-the-hook genius!”

“Where is your brother thinking of applying to?” Kyoya diverged.

“Kaoru? He’s dropping out, actually…”

“Dropping out?”

“Yep.” he shrugged, “School isn’t ‘for him’, apparently. He’s going to intern at our mom’s fashion house. He wants to design clothes, too. I think it’s a bad idea, I mean, you’ve seen the weird shit he wears…”

“Is he home right now?”

“Yeah, upstairs, why?”

“Keep filling that out. I’ll be a second.”

  
***

Kyoya padded up the stairs of the Hitachiin home until he reached the bedroom, where Kaoru was typing away on his Mac.

The ginger turned his head slightly, “Finished already, Hikaru?- Oh, hey, Kyoya…”

“Your brother was telling me about your plan to drop out of Ouran, and I just wanted to explain why that is the worst possible decision you could ever make.”

Kaoru shut the computer down and spun around in his chair to face his friend. Since Kyoya graduated, Kaoru had double-pierced his ears and shaved off the lower sides of his hair.

No more Host Club meant no more projected, clean-cut image. No more Ouran Academy meant no more dress codes.

“I’m all ears, Kyoya. Why should I stay?”

“You only have one more year before you graduate. Can’t you just stick it out? I mean, Christ, Kaoru. What about your future?”

“I’ve already got a job lined up with my mom.” he rolled his eyes and chuckled lightheartedly, “I’ll be fine. It’s not your business to concern yourself with anymore.”

Now Kyoya was getting angry.

“What about when you get bored of fashion, too? You can’t just hop from one thing to the next in the real world, Kaoru.”

“I still don’t get why you care so much.”

  
“I don’t want to see all of you throw your lives away! Between Haruhi and Tamaki’s shotgun wedding and this, it seems like the lot of you are completely abandoning everything we stood for, and for what? Laziness? Impatience? I can’t wrap my head around it!”

Kaoru scoffed, “You mean everything _you_ stood for?! The club was fun and all, but _you_ were the one who always took the business side of things way too fuckin’ far. Have you ever done something just because you _wanted_ to before? Are you going to England because you _want_ to or because you know that Oxford grads always get fancy jobs lined up? You’re gearing up to have a pretty sad life. At least I love what I’m pursuing. I’ll be _happy_.”

Kyoya’s face turned the color of a heart attack.

“The fact that you could look me in the eyes and say that—...! You know I’m the youngest son, and I have to jump through hoops just to get noticed for one second! I am not like you! I don’t have joint ownership of mommy and daddy’s business assets to look forward to! The _minute_ something happens to my father, Yuuchi gets everything, Akito is second in command and I will have _nothing_ ! If I don’t insure my entire future, I’ll end up in limbo. When Tamaki and I started the Ouran Host Club, we sought out ambitious, shrewd people to be its members. People that my father would be _proud_ to see his son spending time with. Now, look at us. We barely talk and I’m the only one out here trying to make anything of myself!”

“So what? You’re going to project that onto all of us? Give me a break, Ootori.”

“Fine. I’ll take my leave then. Forgive me for looking out for my friend…”

Kyoya got up to leave, but was taken aback by the usually cheerful boy’s bitter demeanor.

“Your friend? When have you ever taken an interest in any of us outside of either following us around with a camera to sell your stupid little photobooks or when you needed us to do something for the club? You only care about us when it serves you, but then you’re surprised when we make individual choices for ourselves. It’s sick. We’re only human, Kyoya, and you know what? So are you! You’re not as deep, mature or entrepreneurial as you think you are. You’re just a sad, lonely person who thinks your view of the world is the objective truth, but none of that matters to us! We still care about you, and respect you enough to not butt into your life choices. You should offer us that same courtesy and maybe things could be a little more like they used to be.”

_Ouch._

_That’d sting a lot less if it wasn’t true._

***

No one had ever given such an astute analysis of Kyoya’s character before. No one had seen right through the layers and layers of bullshit and performance.

He was sad, and he was lonely. So, _so_ lonely.

Nothing he did ever felt real. He went through life as though he were on autopilot, with everything blending together in single, fluid days.

High school at Ouran was a blur of piling on all the work, extra credit, honors programs and Host Club business he could. If he wasn’t swimming in papers and pens, he felt restless. If he wasn’t successful, he felt worthless.

 _Success is the best form of revenge_ , his father told him once.

 _Revenge for what, daddy?_ Kyoya asked, six years old and trying to understand.

 _Double crossing you. Attempting to outweigh your accomplishments. Especially for underestimating you. Never let anyone underestimate you. The minute you show even a_ **_shred_ ** _of vulnerability, you will lose everything._

So he always played the part of a well-rounded perfect son, who made perfect grades and was courteous, polite, and dutiful.

This Kyoya didn’t want and didn’t feel. He did what he was supposed to do and what was beneficial to his future, even at the expense of his own happiness and wellbeing.

It weighed on him deeply that no matter how perfect, abstinent and composed he appeared to be on the outside, he was just as human as anyone else.

As much as he wanted to look his friend right in the eye and say some intelligent, witty comeback, asserting his dominance and creating the illusion of being completely unfazed and superior to him, but he was tired, and he’d been holding it all together a little too long now.

Kyoya hung his head and sunk down at the edge of Kaoru’s bed with a small, sad smile.

“You’re right.”

Kaoru realized the gravity of his words and sat down next to him, placing an arm around his friend’s shoulder.

“I shouldn’t have said that. It was totally not cool. I’m sorry....”

“No, Kaoru, you _should_ have said it. You’re right. I don’t want to be this person...I just don’t have a choice.”

“What do you want, Kyoya? Out of life? Not what you think you need, what would make you genuinely happy?”

Kyoya pondered for a moment. Nobody had ever asked him before. He physically couldn’t think of a single thing.

Flashes of something completely unfamiliar to him danced in his head, but he couldn’t quite form the language to describe them.

***

Kyoya knew the ice cream shop would be busy on a hot day in the middle of June, but Kaoru _really_ wanted ice cream, and ~~lied~~ _pleaded_ to Kyoya that he needed a ride.

“But your family has a chauffeur and a _very_ nice new Audi.” Kyoya pointed out during the phone call.

“Well fuck me for wanting to spend quality time with you then, you big jerk.”

“Fine! I’ll drive you over in a few, but I won’t be very fun. I have a reading list out for the classes I registered for and I’m pretty invested in the book I started.”

Kyoya silently cursed the fact that he was the only person in their immediate friend group who A) had a driver’s license and B) was still in town. He hopped into his shiny, silver graduation present to go pick up Kaoru, who was in the passenger’s seat almost the _minute_ he pulled into the estate.

“Someone’s got cabin fever.” Kyoya noted.

“Hikaru is driving me crazy. He’s dating this new girl, Yui, who has the most awful voice and she’s _always_ over now. I mean she’s nice and all, generally ok, but that voice... _my god._ I can’t see how he stands it. She’s like five Renges.”

“Go easy on him. He’s probably thrilled to be able to go on dates now that he doesn’t have to follow Host protocol.”

“That never stopped me.” Kaoru boasted.

Kyoya felt something odd in his chest (jealousy? maybe?) and kept his eyes on the road.

_God, not this again. I am not catching feelings. No fucking way._

“I don’t remember you seeing anybody. You technically weren’t supposed to. Being inaccessible to the ladies was bad for business.”

“I know.” He shrugged, “I just kept cool about it. I didn’t really want any of you guys in my business anyways, no offense. I had a few flings here and there, y’know? Nothing major.”

Kaoru looked really, really good with the undercut. He didn’t look like a young teenage boy anymore. He looked more mature, masculine.

Kyoya pulled into the ice cream shop. It was a cute, kitschy place with pastel wallpaper and little vintage knick-knacks shelved on the walls, a place where a bell rang whenever anyone opened the door, and the customers were mostly elderly couples and young mothers with children. The owners were family friends of the Fujiokas’. Haruhi took the Host Club as a special treat, once. _That expensive, brand name stuff is crap, you guys have got to try real homemade ice cream!_ , Haruhi told them, smiling proudly.

“You want anything, Kyoya? My treat.”

“Just a small, in a cup. I’ll save us a spot.”

Kyoya moved over to a tiny booth in the near back and took the mark out of his book. He was almost halfway through it.

Kaoru sat down across from him within a minute or so and set Kyoya’s ice cream down in front of him, “Salted caramel. I remember this is what you ordered last time. What are we reading?”

“ _Varieties of Capitalism: Institutional Foundations of Comparative Advantage,_ ” Kyoya read out for him, “It’s pretty interesting. I decided to buy all of my summer reading books in English, just to brush up.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever wanted to read something less.” Kaoru teased.

_You’re right. This thing sucks._

“Have you even started working on anything yet, oh great _artiste_?”

“Actually,” Kaoru pulled a three ring binder out of his satchel, “My mom’s been helping me put together a portfolio of my designs to submit to a few different programs for aspiring designers, and I’ve been working in her flagship store and helping her style her runway models to gain some experience.”

He passed the portfolio over to Kyoya who flipped through it. Most of the sketches were of feminine forms in flowing, jewel toned gowns, with a few time period costumes, fabric swatches and concept pieces thrown in. Kaoru was damn good at drawing, and the detailing on the designs were impressive

“These are really, really good…” Kyoya admitted, polishing off his ice cream, ”But I am curious, why all the gowns?”

“Men’s suits are boring, but gowns can be any color or any style. You name it. Besides, I’ve met so many insecure, lonely girls at Ouran...I want to make something that can help women feel more confident. Like my mom always says, a gown can make a woman into art.”

“I think I misjudged you a little too harshly, Kaoru. This seems like the right direction for you to go in.”

Kaoru beamed, “You know something, Kyoya? I’m excited to get to know the _real_ you better.”

***

The clouds drifted along as Kyoya and Kaoru watched from the soft blanket they laid out on the grass, playing a question and answer game they’d made up.

“First kiss?” Kyoya asked. It was the first thing that came to his mind.

“Ayame Nanase. We were in the first grade.” 

“You did not kiss a girl in elementary school, you lying snake. I refuse to believe it. Cooties were a very real threat.”

“I’m serious!”

“I’ll bet she thought you were Hikaru…”

“Alright— it’s my turn to ask you something.” Kaoru declared.

“Shoot.”

Kyoya seemed to forget himself when he was with Kaoru. The two had been inseparable this summer break, almost as much as Kyoya once was with Tamaki.

Kaoru got Kyoya out of the house and out of his own head, and Kyoya got Kaoru away from his brother and the looming threat of Yui’s piercing soprano.

“Kyoya, did you have a crush on Haruhi? And you can _only_ tell the absolute truth, remember?”

“No. I did not have a crush on Haruhi.” Kyoya sighed, “I wish I did. I wish I was able to. I completely understand why Tamaki loves her so much, and why your brother was interested in her, too. She’s delightful. I just...don’t see her that way and I never could.”

Kaoru could tell that Kyoya’s mood was dropping, “Hey, we don’t have to talk about it anymore–“

“The last time I had a ‘crush’ on someone it ended terribly. He figured it out and it damaged our friendship significantly.”

“Kyoya...did you say ‘he’?”

Kyoya turned away and took a deep breath, “Yes, I did. He. That’s the absolute truth.”

“Was it the boss?”

He hesitated, “Yes. I fell for him pretty hard, but I couldn’t tell anyone. I knew it couldn’t happen. I think that’s why I was such an ass for the longest time…”

“So, you’re gay?”

“I think so...” Kyoya paused, “No, I _am_. Fuck. I don’t think I’ve ever said it out loud before. No one else knows except Tamaki. I figured if I just kept it inside it’d go away. I know that’s stupid but–“

“That’s not stupid, Kyoya.” Kaoru said thoughtfully, “I understand.”

***

It was still extremely hot late at night in July and Kyoya did not feel like going through all the trouble to sneak out, but he’d promised his boyfriend (!!!) that he’d come see him. 

Over the past month and a half, Kyoya and Kaoru had been seeing quite a lot of each other. By the end of June, they’d completely assimilated to each other.

It was hard to put into words, especially for Kyoya, whose strong suit was never flowery declarations of love, but everything with Kaoru felt right and came naturally. Nothing was ever forced. 

They made it official the day Kyoya flew back from an appointment with the housing department at Oxford and Kaoru greeted him by wrapping his arms around his neck and pulling him close, holding him for a few electric seconds.

 _What are we?_ Kaoru asked on the drive home, _We spend all of our time together and we just feel so…–_

_Comfortable?_

_Close. Like we’re…together. Are we together?_

_Yes. I think so. Is that alright? Will you be my boyfriend?_

Boyfriend. The word felt foreign in Kyoya’s mouth. It felt like a childish word, akin to the bubbly girls at school who’d blush and giggle and cling onto some tall, gangly boy who only wanted one thing out of them. It was a word he didn’t think he’d ever be able to make his own, but now it was.

Kaoru was so creative and so sensitive and so unlike him. Whenever he would show Kyoya a new design or a quick sketch made of something that inspired him, Kyoya would be in awe at the care his boyfriend (!!!) took to bring lines and color to life.

Kyoya’s mind was regimented and logical, with everything broken down into lists and if-then statements. A line was a line. Kaoru could draw a line and turn it into anything, whether a practical object or something so divorced from reality that it could never exist. His art never ceased to amaze Kyoya.

It was funny to think that only a little while ago, they were at each other’s throats, but now Kyoya felt more at home in Kaoru’s bed than his own.

***

“So, Kyoya…”

“Yes?” Kyoya looked up from his book.

“I was thinking…–“

“Oh no…” he teased.

“I want to tell my parents, and Hikaru. They’re really understanding...and I’ve never kept any secrets from my brother before.”

Kyoya paused, blood running cold. He knew Hikaru would be happy for them, so would all of their friends after they got over the initial shock. He knew Mr. and Mrs. Hitachiin would take it well, they were younger and more radical than most parents, and sure, they wouldn’t be _thrilled_ that Kaoru was in a relationship with another boy, but they also wouldn’t fly off the handle.

Whenever Kyoya’s mind wandered and courted the idea of coming out, the bile would rise and make him sick to his stomach and suddenly he’d be fifteen again, spending anxious, sleepless nights affirming to himself just how disgusting and wrong he was just for existing in a world that was not made for him. He’d return to the embarrassment he felt when Shun Ikeda’s older brother kissed him for sport, or the loneliness of falling in love with his best friend and worst of all, the filthy shame and disgust he felt after he hooked up with the strange man from the bar.

If he looked down at his right arm, he could pinpoint where and when each now-faded scar came from.

The tiny, deep pink keloid close to his elbow was his first, he couldn’t remember why.

The little row of perfect, straight lines on the inside of his wrist were done quickly after his father lectured him for making the daughter of a work colleague run away in tears when Kyoya declined to go out with her, when his own father looked him in the eye and asked, _So, you’re just going to turn down every young lady you meet? People will think you’re some— Oh Christ, Son, they already think you’re a Queer._

The ones that criss crossed over his veins, the ones that Tamaki saw and made such a fuss over, were from a time when he _really_ wanted to end it all. When his whole life felt like a punchline and happiness felt like some unattainable victory he was excluded from just by virtue of circumstance. It didn’t matter. He didn’t matter.

When he looked back at how far he’d come, he was in equal parts relieved and terrified. It could all come crashing down again. One little slip up was all it would take.

It wasn’t fair to expect Kaoru to want to stay in a secret relationship and it _definitely_ wasn’t fair to expect him to remain tethered down to someone who wouldn’t hold hands with him in public or accept a goodbye kiss in front of the door.

Kaoru was worth the risk though, and for the first time in his life, Kyoya was willing to choose happiness over success.

“I don’t care about pleasing my father anymore.” Kyoya admitted, “I don’t want to hide either.”

***

_Dad,_

_I am more than well aware that by writing you this letter I’m making a huge gamble._

_I know I will never be your heir. I’ve finally made my peace with it._

_I trust that you know what’s best to do with your life’s work and truthfully, it was selfish of me to keep entertaining the childish fantasy I had where you gave everything up to me._

_I never wanted it. I wanted your approval._

_The reward was never the family company or the position, it was you noticing my efforts and being impressed._

_For years, it was always: make perfect grades, network, get into a good college, etc._

_I thought if I’d just follow the formula everything would fall into place._

_The truth is, I felt the need to try and compensate for who I am and these plans I’d made served as a distraction._

_I’m gay._

_I’ve known since I was fifteen, but I’ve always known that something was different, and I was never going to tell you, or anyone else for that matter._

_I was going to keep it under lock and completely throw myself into my work and never acknowledge it, but I started a relationship with someone, whom I care for very dearly, and I would like to be with him without constantly looking over my shoulder._

_I love you, I love my brothers and I love Fuyumi, even if I don’t show it enough._

_I only hope you can still accept me as I’ve had to accept myself._

_Your son,_

_Kyoya._

***

When his father rang for him in his study, every step downstairs felt like a death march.

 _This is it. I’ve made my bed._ _Time to lie in it._

Kaoru’s parents received Kyoya with open arms, and Haruhi’s father, Ranka promised him a place to stay at their apartment in a worst case scenario. He had a life after this, he was dating a really great guy, and he had another family of his own creation who would accept him as he was forever, but still, his nerves were eating him alive.

He stood in front of the door for a few seconds, not quite ready, taking a few shallow breaths before pulling it open to walk inside and sit across from his father.

Yoshio’s expression was neutral, hard for Kyoya to read and decipher, which only added to his anxieties. His hands folded on the desk professionally.

“Son.”

“You wanted to see me, Dad?”

“Is...is it true?”

“Yes...”

His father slowly got up and walked around to where Kyoya was seated. He gently put a hand on his son’s shoulder.

“Alright, Kyoya. Just stay safe.” Kyoya could hear his stony father’s voice quiver slightly, “I don’t quite understand it, and I can’t honestly say this is what I wanted for you, but you will _always_ be my son, and I am extremely proud of the young man you’ve become.”

_Oh._

Kyoya felt himself choked up as well, this was definitely not what he was expecting.

“Thank you, Dad. I really thought you’d disown me...you’ve said a few things over the years–“

“If I’d known...maybe I’d be more sensitive to you. I know I’m a severe man, Kyoya. But everything I’ve ever done has been in the best interest of this family, and that means that even if it might be hard for me to come to terms with, I’d rather you be...gay...than not have you with us at all. You’ve had a difficult life, catching up to your brothers, your mother’s mental illnesses, and now this...but please know that nothing could ever change that you are my son.”

Somehow, that was more than enough for him.

***

August came and went with a somber, temporary air, and like a flash, it was September.

On Kyoya’s last night at home before he’d fly west to England, Kaoru laid in bed with him in the sad, nearly empty room.

“You know you don’t have to go, babe. You can just take a gap year and stay with me.”

“No. I have to go, but you can come visit me in Oxfordshire. I like showing you off, Kaoru.” He bit his lip, “Besides, I’ll have a whole apartment to myself…”

“But I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too. I’ll call you every day, and I’ll mail you beautiful, sappy, disgusting love notes and when the holidays come along, I’ll be right back here and I’ll spend every waking moment with you. I promise.”

“You know, I lov-“

Kyoya put his hand on Kaoru’s face,

“Don’t say it. Not just yet.”

***

The air was different in England. Crisper, cleaner. Everything felt more vibrant and fresh. The culture shock was a bit much at first, and many of his peers had _interesting_ (stupid) questions about Japan, but Kyoya got used to it.

He enjoyed his classes. His professors were posh and sophisticated, and the material was challenging. While he usually kept too busy with his coursework to go out, Grace, the girl he sat next to in his finance class would often drag him to parties at her boyfriend’s flat.

Kyoya found that he actually liked spending time with people when there were no strings attached or pressure weighing him down.

“When do we get to meet your boyfriend?” His new friends would ask in between cheap beers and bad music.

“Show them his picture, Kyoya. He’s downright gorgeous!” Grace would tug on his arm until he’d open up his phone and everyone would _ooh_ and _ah_ at his pretty boyfriend.

_As they should!_

Kaoru was finally able to visit in November. Business at the flagship had been pretty hectic during the crux of the Fall fashion season, and he was preparing for an interview to be considered for an internship position at Vogue Japan.

Naturally, he was a big hit. Quite a few people recognized him from Kyoya’s incessant bragging and wanted to take a peek at his designs and the photos he snapped behind the scenes at the most recent runway launch. Several girls gushed excitedly, “You’re Yuzuha Hitachiin’s son?” and took out their phones so they could show him how they all wore his mother’s dresses to their prom/cousin’s girlfriend’s sister’s wedding/graduation party and how much they loved her work.

Afterwards, Kyoya took him back to his tiny one-bedroom and Kaoru watched him write a paper for a good two hours before they tried to catch that night’s episode of _Gossip Girl_ and fell asleep halfway through one of Blair Waldorf’s signature meltdowns. It wasn’t the night that Kyoya had envisioned, but it was something, and he was with Kaoru, _finally._

***

Kyoya was learning, little by little to manage his expectations, that what really mattered wasn’t always what was the most prestigious or self-serving.

The relief was bittersweet, it came with a lot of resentment. So long, so _so_ long, he built his whole life around others’ approval. The whole time he was so guarded and so deeply unhappy, he could have been listening to music, or reading for pleasure, or kissing more boys or spending his time with the people who actually cared about him. He could’ve had a _somewhat_ normal high school experience.

While Kyoya mourned what he’d missed out on by shutting himself away and making a cult of his own suffering, he also had empathy for his younger self. He felt isolated, and more than that, he felt the need to atone for his nature by depriving himself of the things that made him truly happy and surrounding himself by what he thought would _fix_ something that was innate to him. Even now, he had a lot left to unlearn. A lot of wounds still had healing to do, but steadily, with every kiss willingly accepted and every stranger’s disapproving look ignored, the dark clouds in his mind cleared.

All Kyoya could see for miles ahead now was daylight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is basically the last chapter <3 the last update to this will be a quick epilogue.
> 
> This chapter kicked my ass.
> 
> Thank you so much for supporting me and our boy, he deserves the world.
> 
> I also made a spotify playlist for this fic if you're interested: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2yJJegAFPoHZGWWwTgB3Ei


	4. Chapter 4

_Epilogue—_

_Twenty years later,_

_Kyoya reflects._

_***_

All in all, Kyoya was proud of where he’d ended up.

If someone hopped out of a time machine twenty years ago and said, “Hey Kyoya! You’re not going to inherit your father’s title! You are going to settle down with a Hitachiin brother and teach Corporate Finance at Columbia university!” he would’ve been horrified.

Often during his commute to and from work, he’d look out the window of the subway and think about how much everything had changed. His childhood was so privileged and out of touch, but now life was quiet and _normal_ , for well-off public figures in New York City, anyways.

Mostly it was his students who humbled him. When Kyoya was enrolled at Oxford he felt entirely grown up, but at thirty-seven, the gaggle of eighteen and nineteen year olds in his class made him feel ancient. He couldn’t even be mad at them when they made fun of his Japanese accent behind his back or asked obvious questions. They were children to him.

He didn’t feel like grading this afternoon, so he canceled the rest of the day’s classes and assigned a paper via email that’d take at least a week to complete. He had cats to spoil and a husband to cuddle up and watch _The Bachelor_ with.

When he let himself in, Hermia and Helena immediately attacked his feet, greeting their human caretaker with plenty of playful nips.

“I know you’ve missed me, ladies, but please control yourselves.~” he cooed at his sweet cats, “Where’s daddy? Can you girls take me to your daddy?”

Kaoru was in his office slaving away at the prototype for Lana Del Rey’s Met Gala dress. It was possibly the highest honor of his career yet, next to the Tony he won for designing the flashy costumes in the most recent revival of _Cabaret_ (Liza Fucking Minnelli asked him for a selfie on the red carpet!), and it had to be perfect, especially for the amount she was paying.

Kyoya knocked on the open door, “How’s it coming?”

“You’re home early, babe. Come kiss me. This gown is kicking my ass.”

Kyoya made his way over to him, “Silly gown.” He wrapped his arms around Kaoru’s shoulders and kissed his temple, “That’s my job.”

He snuck a peak at Kaoru’s design, and no surprise, it was brilliant. A shimmering masterpiece of emerald velvet, silver lamé accents and crystal beading.

“I’m just not sure about it.” Kaoru admitted, shuffling a few fabric swatches around.

“You’re not sure about _this_? It’s gorgeous, darling. What’s the theme this year?”

“Gatsby: The Rebirth of American Maximalism in Aesthetics. I feel like every pop girl is going to wear flapper dresses with tassels and feathers, so I wanted to make her a real gown.”

“Well, I think it’s just brilliant. I can’t wait to brag about you.” Kyoya mused, “And I think it’s time for you to rest. You always second guess yourself when you get stressed out, dear.”

***

“Pay attention, it’s the season finale and the last rose ceremony is coming up.” Kaoru demanded, teasingly, “How else will you know if Alison chooses the asshole lawyer dude we hate or the farm hunk?”

Kyoya looked up from his iPad, “I’m listening, I swear. I just promised Sophie I’d write her that letter of recommendation for Harvard and I need to send it out soon.”

“Jesus, we’re that old? I can’t believe our goddaughter is going off to college. I refuse to accept it. It feels like she was starting preschool just yesterday.”

“Imagine how Tamaki and Haruhi must feel.” Kyoya chuckled.

“Baby?”

“Mhm?”

“I am so glad we don’t have kids.”

“Me too.” Kyoya set the tablet down and snuggled up next to Kaoru, lightly tracing the tattoos on his forearm, “Besides, we have enough nieces and nephews to make an army.”

“I like that it’s just us.” Kaoru admitted.

“So do I.” He kissed the top of Kaoru’s shoulder, “Thank you for choosing me.”

“How could I not, babe? I love you.”

Kyoya leaned in and pressed his forehead to Kaoru’s, grinning and saying, “I love you too.” against his husband’s lips.

Kyoya remembered a time when he couldn’t bear to hear those words, or say them back. He felt like he hadn’t earned the right to love or be loved, even when Kaoru was right there holding his hand and being patient with him.

Twenty years together. Twelve years of marriage. He hoped he was even a fraction of as good to Kaoru as Kaoru was to him.

They both had to wrestle the other to take care of themselves. Kyoya needed to keep Kaoru from overworking himself into a migraine. Kaoru had to make sure Kyoya took his antidepressants.

During the worst of Kyoya’s depressive episodes, Kaoru used to have to do lots of holding and lots of reassuring and lots of _Of course you deserve me, babe. You’re amazing. Please don’t apologize. You don’t have to do everything by yourself anymore._

Over time it began to dawn on Kyoya that maybe love wasn’t something of a prize to be earned, but a series of conscious choices to make when someone meant so, so much to you that you would go to the ends of the earth just to see them smile. That’s when he stopped doubting himself and bought Kaoru a ring.

***

Kyoya proposed in their hometown. They could only get married in the states, but Japan would always be his first home and part of his heart would always be there with his father, brothers and sister and in-laws, and mostly, the family he found for himself at Ouran.

He took Kaoru to the ice cream shop where they hung out after they had their big fight

“This was where we had our first date.”

“Was it a date?”

“We didn’t know it back then, but I’d say so, given how things worked out.”

He asked Kaoru to take a walk with him along the small nature trail where they used to go and ‘talk’.

“This is where we kissed for the first time.”

“We thought we were so slick, huh?”

Finally, he took Kaoru to a new location, in front of the house he grew up in.

“And this is where I do this,” he got down on one knee, “Kaoru Hitachiin, I love you and I don’t want to spend my life with anyone else. Will you marry me?”

“Yes. Oh my god, babe, yes.”

Kyoya had already told their family and friends about his plan, so immediately after, they all rushed outside to shower the two in hugs and congratulations.

The feeling of warmth and fulfillment was indescribable. Kyoya’s cup was overflowing with the love and support they had for him and his _fiancé_ (!!!), and to think, a decade ago he was contemplating whether or not the world was even enough to hold all of him inside of it.

***

At their ceremony, they chose to write their own vows. Kyoya was nervous at the thought of baring his soul in front of an entire room of people, but also didn’t want to half-ass anything.

 _Kaoru,_ he began, _I’m no good at this sort of thing._ He laughed at himself, the guests followed suit. _But, my heart found you at a time in my life when I was questioning what love was, and if it was possible for me to ever experience it in its entirety. I thought I knew you then. I knew you were smart, funny and oh my goodness, handsome. When I actually had the privilege of exploring the depths of your intelligence and creativity and the beautiful way in which you move through this world, I was left just in awe of you. I love you so much, darling. I love the way you create your art, I love the empathy and tenderness you show for others, I love your ability to get people out of their shell and make everyone feel included. I promise to make you coffee when you’re in the zone working on a project. I promise to keep my mood swings to a minimum. I promise to come to every fashion show, every gallery exhibit, and every awards ceremony you’re featured in, and be the loud, embarrassing trophy husband cheering you on. I promise to try everyday to be even a tiny percent of how amazing you are, because you make me an infinitely better person than I was before. You make me say ‘Yes I can.’, ‘Yes I want.’ and ‘Yes, I do.’, and I love you for that. I promise to make you feel the same way for the rest of our life together._

He gently took Kaoru’s left hand and slid the wedding band on his ring finger, when he looked up to smile at him, he could see tears in his eyes.

 _Hey, babe...shit, I need a second._ He wiped his face and took a deep breath, _Kyoya,_ _you are the heart of me. My muse, my inspiration, and the most beautiful person I think I’ve ever laid my eyes on. I mean come on, ladies and gentlemen, look at that face, right? Ha. I will never not be stunned by you. I am so grateful for that day seven years ago, when you yelled at me about my future plans. If you hadn’t, we wouldn’t be here, and I wouldn’t be the luckiest man alive. I am so proud of you— your work ethic, your ambition and your drive, the passion you have for taking on leadership positions, it’s all so admirable to me. You take such care to make sure no stones are unturned and no person is left unaccounted for, and though you like to hide it, you are a generous and helpful person who takes care of those around you. I promise to drag you to social situations, even though you’d rather stay in. I promise to stay up late and have weird, deep conversations with you while you tackle your mountains of paperwork. I promise to watch trashy American TV shows with you. I promise to help you move the furniture in our living room so we can turn on the radio and slow dance when we get antsy. I promise to finally get you a cat. I promise to read every book you finish so we can discuss it together, because I know you love that so much, and because you do, so do I. I love you, baby. This is forever._

Kaoru slipped the ring onto Kyoya’s spindly finger and laughed through his choked up tears when it caught on his knuckle a bit.

After they sealed their love with a kiss, Kyoya held Kaoru close and took everything in.

_Is this real? Yes. Thank you, World. Yes._

***

“Can you believe it? Farm hunk was right there, offering a life of baby goats and romance, and what does Alison do? She chooses that jerk, _Craig!_ ”

“He _is_ a lawyer, sweetheart. He probably has a decent amount in the bank, but he’s so smug he probably won’t make her sign a prenup, and if she, you know, _stages an accident_ , who runs away with the money? She wins.”

“Babe, your brain scares me sometimes.” Kaoru turned off the television and rested his head against Kyoya’s shoulder.

Kyoya kissed his hair, “I know.”

“I’m so burned out it’s unreal.”

“You could really use a break, Kaoru. I don’t have a class tomorrow, I can _conveniently forget_ about my department meeting so I can be with you.”

“I know I’ve been working a lot, but I really need this dress to be perfect.”

“It is absolutely magnificent. You have nothing to worry about.”

“How’s class?”

“Well, I started teaching a lesson about the trade war with China, but it turned into a huge debate about communism. I did absolutely nothing to moderate it because it was great entertainment.”

“You’re horrible!~” Kaoru pecked Kyoya on the lips and turned the lamp on his bedside table off, “I’m going to get some sleep. Night, babe.”

“Goodnight, my love. I might be a while.”

He grabbed his iPad and finished up sending out Sophie’s letter, and checking a few emails.

One in particular stood out to him, from his mother-in-law, with a file attached.

***

_Hi Honey!_

_I hope you and Kaoru are well,_

_I was doing some digging around in my old home office and I found this sweet photograph of you boys from a few years ago!_

_Love you,_

_Mama Yuzuha_

_***_

When he opened the attachment, enclosed was a picture she had taken of them at the airport when Kyoya came back home for Christmas break during his freshman year of uni. He hugged Kaoru so tightly that he picked him up and lifted him a couple of inches off the ground.

The expression of joy on his own young face made him grin. Not a whole lot else made him smile back then.

_Get ready, kid. He’s in it for the long haul and so are you._

Kyoya looked back at his sleeping husband and contented, went to bed himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There it is. This crazy, beautiful mess of rambling, tears and joy is complete!  
> Thank you all so much for reading this thing.  
> I love you all and I'm really starting to love this community on Ao3.  
> If any of you ever want to talk, etc, my inbox is always open and you can follow me on ig @annafaerie_ or tumblr: @youpaintdreamscapes.  
> Please check out my other works if you feel compelled to do so as well!
> 
> EDIT: 10/29/2020  
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> https://ko-fi.com/eachnighteachmorning


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